Hot, Hot Heat
by Mira Cohen
Summary: Heat-wave in New York. Miranda/Andy ff. Having a writers block for Cure All so this is just something to keep me ticking over...Also, I don't own them, please don't sue!


Andy Sach's had been sitting in the back of Miranda's town car while Roy battled the early rush hour traffic, scribbling furiou

Andy Sach's had been sitting in the back of Miranda's town car while Roy battled the early rush hour traffic, scribbling furiously as Miranda rattled off a to-do list for the next day when the strangest thing happened. Manhattan was in the midst of a blistering heat wave and all over the city, tempers and passions were flaring. Despite the air conditioning currently keeping the car at a very manageable 20 degrees Celsius, it seemed Miranda was not immune to the heady atmosphere outside. In fact, she had been snappy and irritable, well, more so than usual, all day.

Which probably went a long way to explaining why she went as far as to roll down the window and bellow at a cab driver who was attempting an illegal u-turn. Andrea had been beyond stunned at this. Miranda Priestly never lost her cool and never raised her voice no matter HOW incensed she was. Seeing her lean out the window of her Mercedes and insult the parentage of a taxi driver in some very colourful, not to mention inventive, language- well Andrea could not have been more surprised than if Miranda had turned around and confessed a secret affinity for pink Juicy Couture velour track-suits and Paris Hilton's new single.

She had been in this intolerable mood since Andrea had arrived at the office that morning. The young assistant had endured a nightmare start to the day: her thigh high leather Louis Vitton boots were the worst possible choice of footwear for a sweltering day in the city and she had regretted choosing them the moment she stepped out of her apartment building and felt the sweat trickle down her leg from where they stuck uncomfortably to her shapely legs. The 4-inch high heels didn't help either as she tottered as fast as she could to the subway which was, typically, packed to the point of bursting with frazzled, grumpy commuters. She spent the entire 20-minute journey mashed into the armpit of a very ripened businessman, trying not to gag too loudly. Her escape aboveground did little to cool her overheated body and further panic ensued when she felt sweat starting to bead on her forehead and trickle down past her ear as she tried to juggle her ridiculously oversized Marc Jacobs bag and a tray of Starbucks. She had sensibly ordered iced coffees for both herself and Emily but Miranda's order of scalding hot Latte had not changed and the steam billowing from the lid into Andy's face left her feeling like she was carrying a miniature sun through the hallways of Elias Clarke.

When she had finally arrived at her desk, Emily had wrinkled her nose in disgust at Andy's wilted appearance and swiped her coffee away without so much as a thank you. The beleaguered assistant's already panicked state increased to near hysteria as she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of her glass desktop- to say she looked a state would be akin to saying Mount Everest was not so much a mountain as a slight incline. She was just about to open her mouth to beg five minutes to clean up in the bathrooms from Emily when she heard a faint but demanding "Andrea? Coffee, NOW!" drift from Miranda's office. For the first time all morning, Andy felt a chill gallop down her spine. She fruitlessly spent a few seconds trying to smooth her skirt and used a Starbucks napkin to dab frantically at her brow before straightening her shoulders and doing her best impression of a purposeful march into the Dragon's Lair.

Any hope she had of simply depositing the steaming cup on Miranda's desk and retreating to the safety of the outer office before Miranda noticed her advanced state of dishevelment were dashed as soon as she entered the room. Instead of being bent over with her nose buried in layouts or glossy photos, Miranda was sitting regally, looking stunningly perfect as always, staring directly at her over the tops of her Donna Karan lenses. Her expression, unreadable at the best of times, was a curious mixture of muted horror, surprise and something more intense that Andy couldn't quite put her finger on. It was nearly enough to stop her dead in her tracks. Her step faltering only slightly she continued towards the desk and placed the coffee cup in its designated spot before stepping back to await further instructions. Miranda had carefully removed and folded her glasses, laying them neatly on the desk before picking up her coffee and bringing it to her lips. She paused to rake her eyes slowly over Andrea, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Andy's insides squirmed at the scrutiny that was now a part of their daily routine. She risked a peek at her boss and could have sworn that the woman's gaze seemed to linger a little at the skin between where her skirt ended and the cursed boots began- a totally ridiculous notion. Clearly the heat was scrambling her perceptions. Eventually, Miranda had sat back and taken a long gulp of the molten java and replaced the cup on the table before clearing her throat and delivering her trademark dismissal. Andy couldn't be sure, but the editing supremo's lips seemed to have twitched into what could only be described as a smirk before catching themselves and settling into a more comfortable purse as Andy fled gratefully from sight. Feeling bold, she threw a 'back in 5' at a startled and furious Emily and disappeared to the bathrooms with her make up bag to make emergency repairs to her melted visage.

Once Andy had cleaned up and cooled down a bit in the Runway air conditioning, she felt decidedly calmer and more human. She had tackled her work with customary vigor and enthusiasm and the hours had ticked along nicely. Even though her boss was calling every other 20 minutes to bark instructions at her, Andy started to enjoy her day. Determined to keep her good mood going, she was purposely extra cheery to everyone, something she knew had to be annoying in the extreme for her colleagues, especially the Dragon Lady. But Andy didn't care, she was almost happy and, given the drama and upset that coloured her recent past, Andy was going to keep hold of it no matter what. So she sat and typed and phoned and sometimes even hummed a little.

Miranda and Emily spent the morning and early afternoon in various meetings, leaving Andy to work in a quiet, almost tranquil empty office. Alas however, eventually all good things must come to an end and at ten to four, the peace was shattered as Master and servant arrived back in a flurry of barked orders and furious note taking. Miranda had barely spent a full minute in her office before re-emerging and demanding her purse from Emily. A curt 'Andrea, we're leaving' later and they were off in the car to a meeting with Anne Klein's people.

And so Andy found herself sitting in shock beside the irate woman as she hung out a car window hurling abuse at a checker cab. It was truly astounding. Andy watched in disbelief a few moments longer until, tirade over, Miranda stabbed the button for the window to roll up and clicked her seatbelt angrily back into place, all the while glaring at Andrea who sat helplessly willing her mouth shut itself. A flare of nostrils and raised eyebrow was all it took for her brain to engage with her jaw and her mouth snapped shut so quickly she worried about broken molars.

The slightly frightened assistant felt like she should say something but wasn't exactly sure what. Miranda was looking out the window now, silently fuming and Andy knew if she left her boss to her own demonic thoughts for much longer, heads would roll in Anne Klein. Andy couldn't let that happen- making enemies with the designer who was due to have an 11 page spread in the next issue of Runway would be hell for everyone. It was her duty as a human being to prevent the unthinkable.

"I confirmed your facial for 3pm at Spa Telanu tomorrow" she started, pretending to look over her notepad as a way of avoiding Miranda's eyes "em...Janine at reception there, she...um...she told me that Ivana had been in this morning...apparently...ah...she's had a nasty run in with an untested collagen injection compound...and, wel..Janine says she looks like a cross between Jackie Stallone and a Persian cat that's been hit by a garbage truck..." Andy risked a look at her boss whose nostrils had, mercifully, ceased flaring-she was now staring directly at Andy, head tilted slightly, listening intently. "...Which if you think about it, is pretty much the same thing right?" Andy finished gamely and waited for a response.

For the second time that day, Andy saw the corner of Miranda's lip twitch and gave herself a mental high five "The poor thing" muttered Miranda in a tone that suggested anything but pity "you must call her tomorrow and arrange a lunch, tell her I have _so_ been meaning to meet sooner but work etc. have been impossible. Make it quite clear that non-attendance is not an option" she finished smugly. Andy sighed with relief. Nothing cheered Miranda up more than the opportunity to be an insufferable bitch, which was fine with Andy as long as it wasn't directed at her. She tapped a reminder into her Blackberry and gave a silent cheer when she felt the car start moving again. All going well, they would be at Anne Klein on time. Which meant, of course, 15 minutes earlier than scheduled.

To everyone's barely concealed relief, the meeting went well and a time and date for the shoot was scheduled without too much diva-ism from either party. Andy had been surprised when Miranda had insisted she sit at her right-hand side and not in the seats behind her, as per their normal arrangement. But there she had sat and watched as Anne Klein's creative director talked through piece after piece after piece, which were draped on an endless parade of perpetually sullen looking, rake thin models. Every so often, Andy would feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a strange and not unpleasant sensation. She was convinced Miranda was sneaking looks at her but anytime she tried to catch her, Miranda's head would be facing forward and her eyes would be busy dissecting whatever the current model had been wearing. It was weird and yet a little bit thrilling.

Meeting over, Andy stepped away to find a quiet spot to phone Roy and make sure he'd be downstairs in 5 minutes. It was all Andy could do not to scream when she heard his reply.

"No can do Andy, the cops have closed the street from all directions, some kinda bomb scare or something" he apologised.

"But…but….you have to be here! Now! She is ready to leave! She is…oh my GOD Roy, she is waking towards me…." Andy tried her best not to shriek at the long-suffering driver, she really did, but she was so far beyond hysterical she had started to channel Emily.

"Look Andy, I dunno what to say- I ain't getting through any time soon. If you can get her a little further downtown I may be able to circle around and meet you somewhere but that's all I got for now." Roy apologised again and then, Andy couldn't believe it, hung up.

"Roy? Roy!" She was screwed. Heart thumping, she snuck a look over her shoulder to see Miranda had stopped to talk to one of the models, no doubt to tell her to drop a few pounds. Hopefully the girl would start crying and buy Andy some more time. She had to think of something and think fast. Getting the subway was out of the question as was a taxi. Anyway, if Roy couldn't get here neither would a cab. So that left what? There was no way Miranda would agree to wait here as she would not risk people thinking that A) she could afford a luxury such as time, even though there was nothing on her schedule for the rest of the afternoon and had probably planned to call it a day anyway and B) that the Ice Queen was loosing her touch and could no longer intimidate even a lowly driver into showing up in time.

"Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck. FUCK!" She repeated the mantra over and over as her mind raced wildly for a solution to her dilemma.

"Very nice. And here I thought you were an innocent, corn-fed, All American girl from, aw shucks, Ohio. Really Andrea, use your words" a familiar voice came from behind her. Andy nearly jumped out of her proverbial skin and whirled around to face her boss, phone still clutched in one hand, panic written all over her face.

"Miranda! Hi, I…eh… you ready?" she tried to sound in control, no mean feat considering her voice was still coming out in a hysterical squeak. Miranda tilted her head in the affirmative and the two strode toward the elevators. Andy waited until the doors closed and the car started its descent before she slumped against the wall. Her life was over and it was all some stupid, inconsiderate wannabe terrorist's fault.

"Andrea?" Miranda was looking at her again, demanding an explanation. Deciding to bite the bullet, she explained everything in a rush of 'sorrys' and 'there's nothing I can dos'.

"Roy said that, if we could get downtown a little further, he could probably meet us there" Andy took a breath, said a quick prayer and continued "my apartment is only a few blocks from here, we could walk and wait and I have my laptop and you could connect to the office if you needed or just check your emails or whatever and I have cable so, you know if you preferred I think Hillary Swank is on Oprah and last time she wore that hideous mustard yellow smock thing so it might be interesting to see what……" Andy gulped as a cool hand clamping down on her mouth abruptly cut her off.

"Stop. Talking. Now." Miranda ground out through gritted teeth. "I cannot bear such incessant chatter Andrea, a fact I'm sure you are well aware of." Andy nodded vigorously- the hand was still covering her mouth and the sensation of soft skin on her lips combined with her proximity to Miranda was starting to make her dizzy. She ached to run her tongue over the palm and taste Miranda- the overload of sensations was driving her wild. Once Miranda was satisfied there would be no further babbling from her assistant she removed her hand slowly and turned to face the doors again. A few moments later and they were stepping out into the lobby.

"I will not sit around a lobby for god knows how long waiting like some kind of…" Miranda searched for an analogy but nothing suitably cutting jumped immediately to mind. She sighed instead "…just lead the way to your apartment and remember, no talking."

They walked through the suffocating heat for 20 minutes in total silence. Andy had reverted back to her early morning self and was once again a sweaty mess. The boots were murderously hot and she could feel sweat starting to pool at her toes. To an outsider, Miranda looked remarkably unaffected by the soaring temperatures but Andy knew better. She could see that the back of Miranda's blouse was starting to stick a little to the small of her back and the hair at the nape of her neck was beginning to curl. Her fingers itched to reach over and smooth it back into shape.

Arriving at her building, Andy was suddenly nervous. She tried desperately to remember if she had cleaned away last night's dinner plates or hung up the towels after her shower that morning. She sighed in defeat- it was too late to anything about it now. She tried to avoid looking at Miranda's face as they trudged up the stairs past graffiti and peeling wallpaper. She didn't want to see her home through Miranda's eyes: while she knew it wasn't fit for someone of her boss' stature, she liked it and she wasn't going to feel ashamed by its cracked ceilings or chipped paint. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed the door open and stood aside to let Miranda enter.

"Home sweet home" she mumbled nervously and followed her in, kicking the door shut behind her. Miranda stood there and gave the apartment a thorough once over. Then, as gingerly as one might move if they were treading on broken glass, she walked to the couch and sat primly on the edge of one of the cushions. Andy rolled her eyes, surprised the other woman hadn't whipped out a handkerchief to place under her derrière, a lá Niles Crane. She sauntered over to the AC unit and smacked it three times to turn it on. It sputtered promisingly before promptly dying. Andy groaned. Life could be so unfair at times. She turned her attention back to Miranda who was looking a little more at ease. Her shoulders had relaxed ever so slightly and she settled a bit further into the cushions.

"Can I get you anything? I think I have some Pellegrino…" Andy offered.

"That would be….acceptable" was the response. Andy busied herself in the kitchen, drying her fanciest glass and filling it with ice before adding the mineral water. She presented it to Miranda who sipped at it gratefully. Andy remained standing beside her while she drank. "Andrea, you're hovering. Is there something you want?" The editor enquired that faux-saccharine tone that drove Andy up the wall.

"Em…well, I was wondering…would you mind awfully if I changed? Only these boots are slowly killing me and I'm afraid that if my feet swell anymore with the heat then I'll need to call FDNY to come cut me out of them" Andy pleaded. Miranda looked down at Andy's legs and immediately the dark haired girl felt the same unmistakable tingle at the back of her. Miranda sighed softly and nodded her head in assent. Andy gave her a grateful smile and handed her the remote for the TV. "Won't be long, Oprah's on 48."

Five minutes later, Andy reemerged. She had boldly assumed that she would not be returning to Runway for the rest of the afternoon and accordingly, had changed out of her uncomfortable work wear and into a pair of her old high school soccer shorts and a white tank top. Her make up and been eagerly removed she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail to keep it from plastering itself to the back of her neck. She felt a million times better and did not give a damn if Miranda hurled snide comments about her sloppy attire. The woman in question was ignoring Oprah's thought for the day and tapping furiously into her Blackberry. Andy hoped it wasn't an email to Roy's boss demanding he be fired for his 'incompetence'. She moved on to the kitchen, grabbed a diet soda from the refrigerator and took three long, satisfying gulps. She was about to go for another when a throat cleared behind her. She jumped and spun to face its source.

"Jesus Christ Miranda! Do you have creep up on me like that all the time?" she blurted without thinking then gasped in shock at her stupidity.

"I did not creep up on you Andrea, you were just too busy swilling at that soda can like a barbarian that you didn't hear me. Are you going to crush it against your head when your finished or just throw it over your shoulder in the general direction of the bin whilst belching the alphabet?" Miranda sneered; all the while her eyes were running over every inch of Andrea's body. There was no mistaking the look on her face this time; it was pure, unadulterated lust.

Andrea opened her mouth to bite off a smart retort but the look on Miranda's face was making it very hard to think of anything other than the fact that she was not wearing a bra and her nipples were so tight that, one wrong move and she might accidentally poke one of Miranda's eyes out with them. Her mouth went suddenly dry as a herd of elephants began jumping up and down in her stomach. There was an incessant thrumming in her ears and it took a few moments before she realised it was the sound of her heart hammering in her chest. She idly wondered if Miranda could hear it too.

For her part, Miranda wasn't faring much better. Her hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly at her sides and her breath was starting to come out in barely controlled, ragged gasps. The image of Andrea standing in front of the open refrigerator drinking slowly from a can wearing what could only be described as glorified underwear had been one of the most erotic images she had ever had the immense pleasure of laying her eyes on. The girl had been driving her insane ever since she had arrived breathlessly into her office that morning with her flushed cheeks, mussed hair and not to mention those boots! She had looked like she had just been fucked six ways from Sunday and had enjoyed every minute of it. All Miranda had been able to think about all day was putting that look back on Andy's face by actually fucking her six ways from Sunday and she could not stand it any longer.

They came together like tectonic plates, an unstoppable meeting of two forces of nature. Their bodies melded so closely together that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Hips pressed against hips, breasts against breasts and hands tangled in hair. Neither woman had felt such passion, such raw need before in their lives. It was all consuming and wild like an out of control forest fire that threatened to combust them both. Tongues dueled and darted as teeth nipped at lips and skin. Slowly, Andy started shuffling them backwards towards the bedroom. They were halfway through the living area when Miranda suddenly, astonishingly, pulled away.

"Wait!" she gasped. Andy could not believe it. Was this woman serious?! But slowly, realization dawned as she watched Miranda walk on unsteady legs over to where her phone was resting on the coffee table. She snatched it up and punched in speed dial-3 with shaking hands.

"Emily, I shall not be returning to the office. You will deliver the book and my dry cleaning this evening. Cancel my 8am conference call with Runway Italia tomorrow morning, I will phone you before 9am with any further instructions. That is all."

Andy was impressed that the clearly flustered woman had managed to deliver her instructions without so much as a quiver in her voice. Roy received a similar phone call before the phone was switched off and thrown carelessly onto the couch. Miranda turned to pin her with a look of pure hunger and Andy wasted no time in closing the space between them and resuming her exploration of Miranda's hot, wet mouth with her tongue. They finally managed to shuffle into the bedroom and proceeded to tear the clothes off one another like horny teenagers. One moment Andy was pulling impatiently at the buttons on Miranda's blouse, the next she was flat on her back being straddled and watching in delight as Miranda pulled the blouse apart herself, revealing her perfect breasts which were covered by a decadent satin and lace bra. Andy reached instinctively to cup them and stifled a groan as Miranda bucked at the contact, driving her centre into Andy's hip.

It was at that exact moment that Miranda ceased being her boss or colleague and became her lover and the realization made Andy's heart thump harder.

In one fluid motion, she pulled Miranda down and flipped her onto her back pausing only to grin smugly at the surprised look on the older woman's face before dipping her head and capturing one rose-pink nipple through the lace of her bra. Miranda gasped and threw her head back at the sensation as Andy switched her attention to the other breast. Soon Miranda was writhing on the bed in ecstasy, begging for more. She returned her lips to Miranda's mouth and let her hands roam over the silky smooth skin beneath. After several eternities, she reached the waistband of Miranda's panties and Miranda lifted her hips while Andy tugged them down. After a seconds hesitation, she dipped a slender finger into slick folds and sighed with pleasure. Miranda was soaking wet and ready and it was with great ease that she slipped two digits deep inside her lover. This time, they groaned aloud and in unison at the sensation.

Andy pulled her fingers slowly out before plunging them back in. A twist of her wrist allowed her brush her thumb gently over Miranda's swollen clit, causing her lover to cry out. She leaned back slightly to take it all in; Miranda was spread naked beneath her, flushed with desire and covered in a sheen of sweat. Her pupils were dilated behind heavy lids and her lips were swollen and red and Andy thought she might die from the beauty of it. Leaning forward again she pressed her forehead against Miranda's and looked deep into her eyes as she slowly built her speed. The woman beneath her became more vocal with each thrust, murmuring nonsense and encouragement into her ear with an ever increasing sense of urgency. Andy groaned, threw one leg over Miranda's thigh and started grinding against it in time with her own thrusts. It was all too much for Miranda who tore her mouth from Andy's and let out a scream so animalistic and raw it was enough to tip them both over the edge.

Andy waited for Miranda's muscles to finish pulsing around her fingers and slowly removed them. She thought about licking them clean but didn't want to push her luck, wiping them discreetly on her sheets instead. She rolled off Miranda who was still panting and gasping and lay down alongside her. Her body tingled like there had just been 1000 volts put through it and it was the most incredible feeling in the world. Turning her head, she was met by a warm pair of blue eyes who were gazing at her with a mixture of wonder and consternation. She knitted her brow.

"What?"

"I have spent all day imagining in great detail what I'd ever do to you if I got my hands on you in those boots. But when the time came you didn't give me a look in." Miranda pouted but her tone was light. Andy giggled in delight at the unexpected playfulness.

"Why Miranda, I had no idea!" Andy gasped in mock surprise "Please, by all means…." She opened her arms in invitation and squealed as her bedmate scrambled on top of her and pinned her hands above her head.

"Oh don't worry, I plan to" Miranda growled into her ear and proceeded to nip and suck at the lobe. Andy's eyes rolled back in her head as she surrendered without a fight to the all-conquering Miranda Priestly.

Giving in had never felt so good.

Fin!


End file.
